i am your king. hello. hello?
learn to pay attention.
or i'll have you beheaded.
oh, did you take me seriously?
i was just kidding.
don't look so glum now.
i dont like that smirk either.
you think its easy being a king?
you think its fun?!
it is not, trust me.
why, you ask?
an endless number of queens to please
whose tantrums, requests never cease.
i would always prefer to be in battle
than hear them incessantly rattle
on about each others' flaws,
with me perpetually at a loss
as to what to say or where to run,
oh! I should have married just one
and been happy with a single queen.
kingship ain't as fun as it seems.
you see my point?
want to hear some more?
no, no. don't you stop me now....
every single night and day,
mad uncles and cousins i keep at bay,
who always plot to murder me
in most interesting ways, you see.
but they never seem to realise
that the very moment this king dies,
whoever comes next would hardly be
any different from poor old me.
their heads will also finally roll,
kingship always takes its toll.
see? being a king,
i'm normally expected to speak in rhymes.
you really think so?
the bards can rhyme them on their own?
even if i speak normally, like this?
i never would have known.
thank you very much.
do drop by my castle sometime.
i don't get too many guests.
yes, its right around the corner.
yes, this is my stop.
i would be getting off now.
nice to meet you...
yes, goodbye now...
Posted for the Monday Poetry Potluck.